


Pragmatic beyond any reasoning

by Anonymous



Series: Heavy is the head [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Look man, Rated teen for a few swears and also Wilbur's whole... situation, Wilbur is not in a good place here, it gets pretty rough, its the button room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27577133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He needs to be able to see the button. Needs to be able to get to it. To press it. To end this whole farce.Maybe Quackity is lying to Tommy. Maybe the whole argument-breakup-resignation with Schlatt was an act to get at Tommy and Wilbur’s secrets. Maybe he’s about to turn around and tell Schlatt exactly what he found and there goes Wilbur’s one chance at fixing this whole mess-But not yet.Not yet, because Wilbur’s still here and so is the button. He just needs to get to it.-OR: An adaptation of the confrontation in The Button Room following the festival, told from Wilbur's point of view.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Heavy is the head [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019892
Comments: 3
Kudos: 81
Collections: Anonymous





	Pragmatic beyond any reasoning

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Saline Solution by Wilbur Soot.
> 
> Not really sure what fandoms to tag this for, if I'm being honest? So if anyone has any better ideas, feel free to tell me lmao

It takes Wilbur a moment too long to process what he’s even looking at. “What?” he breathes. There shouldn’t be this much sky here. There should be… “There was a White House, here.”

Quackity’s voice is hard. “It’s gone, Wilbur.”

“But, we…” The feeling in his chest is an old friend by now. It’s not anger, not the way Tommy is angry. Tommy’s anger runs white-hot and has him challenging gods to duels and fighting executioners in pits. Wilbur is just _tired_. “We built this together, us three. Remember?”

“And now it’s a monument to _crying_.” Tommy’s lip is curled, and Wilbur can’t decide what the boy is more angry about: the White House, or the monument left in its place. 

“No, I remember that. Before the elections, we just… we just started building it. We said the winner gets to keep the house,” Quackity says. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the monument or the words written on the side- _The Monument to Crying About It_. “And now the winner’s fuckin’... taken it down.” Quackity takes a breath. “He’s- it’s gone.”

Wilbur turns away to stare over the side of the cliff. “He’s gonna take down the…” he muses, trailing off.

Quackity is saying something, but Wilbur’s stopped paying attention. His gaze is still fixed on the van. He doesn’t understand why Tommy doesn’t want to blow it all up. Isn’t he sick of this? Doesn’t he want to make Schlatt _hurt_ _?_ They gave up so much for this nation, the two of them, and in return it tries to erase any sign of their influence. To forget them. They spent so _long_ on those walls. So much time and effort to keep L’Manberg safe for generations to come. But the walls are gone. The White House is gone. They didn’t even keep the flag. At this rate, there’s going to be nothing left of L’Manberg. 

There still would have been nothing left if Wilbur could have just found that _fucking_ button. But that would be different, because it would be him doing it. Destroying _his_ creation- _his_ nation in a blaze of glory. Doing it on his terms. Not this. Not a slow, aching decay until it collapses in on itself like rotten wood; a shell of what it was envisioned to be. At least if Wilbur had gotten his way yesterday, then the White House would still be... “This is the one place that wasn’t going to be hit by my TNT,” he finally allows himself to admit, looking to Tommy.

Tommy’s eyes widen, gaze fixing on something just over Wilbur’s shoulder. When he turns, there’s Quackity. His eyebrows are furrowed, like he knows he’s missing something but just can’t place _what._

“Oh,” Wilbur realizes. “You didn’t know about the…” Of course he didn’t. He only defected this morning. In the aftermath of the festival, it was so easy to forget that there were people who _didn’t_ know.

 _“What?”_ Quackity asks. He looks horrified. He _should_ be. He ran against Wilbur and Tommy because he didn’t want a dictatorship. He left Schlatt because he’d finally realized that a dictatorship is exactly what he’d allowed to happen. It’s almost funny. Out of everyone in this war, Wilbur’s right hand and the man that was his enemy up until an hour ago might be the only ones left with any morals. _Why?_ Isn’t it tiring? Trying to rebuild something that’s already gone? Manberg doesn’t want them- _any_ of them. Don’t they realize that? Don’t they just want to be done with it all? They should be thanking him.

He thinks about what he came to tell Tommy, and takes a deep breath. They _will_ thank him for it. 

Some day. 

-

 _“Holy shit_ , _”_ Tommy breathes, and Wilbur can’t help but smile.

“Hey,” he says. “Please don’t press that button.”

Quackity’s breath catches in his throat. “What the fuck is this?”

“Tommy. Big Q.” Wilbur takes his place just to the right of the button. It’s so close. So close that he could just reach over and... but not yet. Not until he can make Tommy and Quackity understand _why_. After all Tommy’s been through with him, and all Quackity’s tried to do, they’ve earned that much. “I am happy to announce that I’ve gone out of my way-” He pauses, remembering. “Big Q, you weren’t here yesterday, were you?”

Tommy’s hand is on Quackity’s arm. By the look on his face, it’s the only thing keeping Quackity from just rushing him right here and now. “No, I was running the event!”

“You didn’t hear about any of this?” 

There’s no recognition in Quackity’s eyes. Only dawning horror. Wilbur can see by the set of his shoulders that whatever Quackity thinks is happening, he doesn’t like it. 

So he explains himself. “I was going to blow up the event. Dream gave me about four stacks of TNT, which are currently laying under Manberg. This button is connected to redstone and repeaters that will ignite, and blow up the entire nation.”

Tommy takes his hand off Quackity’s arm, and takes a step forward. Because of _course_ he does. Because he still doesn’t get it. He’s always so ready for a fight and no one ever taught him to pick his battles. The last time he tried that he got beat to shit in a pit by the mercenary that had just tried to murder his best friend, and the time before that he lost a duel to the death with a god. But Wilbur’s the leader. _He’s_ the one that’s meant to pick the battles, and he is _so ready_ to be done with this one. They’ve already lost! The only thing that’s left to do is close the curtains on the whole affair.

“I wanted to bring you two here, because I wanted you to bear witness,” Wilbur barrels on before Tommy can stop him.

He still tries his best to cut in with a sharp “Bear witness to wha-“ but Wilbur’s on a roll. This might be the only chance he gets. He needs to do this now, and he needs to do it _right_.

“I felt like we _missed_ yesterday. Yesterday was my chance to blow it all up.” He stops again, leveling Tommy a sharp glare. “Please, put that back.”

Tommy’s got some of the leftover TNT that was strewn about the room in his hands. It’d almost be clever, if Wilbur weren’t trying to save him right now. “Oh, I’m just reading the signs,” he lies. “Sorry, kee-”

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Quackity is shushing him. Tommy opens his mouth like he’s about to say something more- and then they hear the footsteps overhead. It takes Wilbur a moment to remember why they should care about that. It could be anyone in Manberg, except… Schlatt’s the only one here right now. That was the whole point of all this.

“Oh,” Wilbur breathes. It’s _perfect_. He’s never going to get a better chance than this.

Quackity hisses through gritted teeth, “No one locked the fucking door.”

But Wilbur doesn’t care. “Listen, listen! I missed my chance to blow it up, right? But this morning. This morning I thought _today’s the day_. Do you know why? Because I saw _someone_ was in Manberg. Someone was here, right?” Wilbur looks to the ceiling as he speaks, trying to gauge where Schlatt is standing. If he’ll be in the blast radius when everything goes up in flames. “And I thought _what better time?_ Of just eradicating the nation, and eradicating _him_ , than _right now?_ I can finally do what I said I was gonna do!”

“No, no, no, Wilbur, Wilbur, listen-” Quackity starts, a frantic look in his eye.

 _“I may have missed my chance-"_ Wilbur talks over him.

“Blowing up Manberg is not gonna do anything!” he protests.

All Wilbur can think is _that’s just rich_. “Oh, Big Q, you sound _just like_ Tommy!” They’re birds of a feather, those idealists.

“Quiet!” Tommy hisses. The hand that isn’t holding his confiscated TNT is pointing upwards. A silent reminder that they’re not the only ones here.

“There’s no point!” Wilbur crows, grinning. “We’ll all be dead soon, it doesn’t _matter!"_

Tommy looks so _scared_ it almost hurts. He shouldn’t be… Tommy doesn’t _get_ scared. “What do you mean? Why… why _soon_ _?”_ He’s stalling. He has to be stalling. There’s no way he’s actually that _stupid_.

“Listen. Listen, Tommy,” Wilbur attempts to keep his voice steady as he puts a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. He tries to look reassuring, doing his best to imitate the man- the _hero_ \- Tommy is so convinced he used to be.

“What?” he asks, and- _ah_. There it is. That _anger_. The kind that could level cities if Wilbur could just find the right words.

“I’m gonna do it today.” He has to. This is his last chance. It’s now or never and if he chooses _never_ , then he is dooming all of them to a cycle of war and vengeance that will never fucking end because one man decided that he didn’t need his god.

“Do what today?” Tommy takes a step back out of Wilbur’s reach. He’s nearly gathered all of the TNT. It’s clutched to his chest like that would do anything to stop Wilbur from taking it if he chose to. “You’re gonna do _what_ today?”

“No, no, no!” Quackity protests, and now he has a hand around Wilbur’s bicep as he bodily moves him to the side. “Move away from the fuckin’ button.”

“Fine, I’ll stand here, then!” Wilbur accepts. Whatever makes Quackity move from where he stands, blocking the button from Wilbur’s line of sight. He doesn’t think it’s normal, how much distress that causes him. His pulse spikes. He needs to be able to see the button. Needs to be able to get to it. To press it. To end this whole farce. 

Maybe Quackity is lying to Tommy. Maybe the whole argument-breakup-resignation with Schlatt was an act to get at Tommy and Wilbur’s secrets. Maybe he’s about to turn around and tell Schlatt exactly what he found and there goes Wilbur’s _one chance_ at fixing this whole mess-

But not yet. 

Not yet, because Wilbur’s still here and so is the button. He just needs to get to it.

So he takes a breath. Tries a different approach. “Look, Big Q, I’ll explain it to you. Yesterday, I had the perfect opportunity to blow everything up and finally end it, you know? I had _the_ perfect opportunity to finally blow up everything and end it, and just- just completely save everyone from the tyranny of Schlatt, and the tyranny of the _existence_ of Manberg and L’Manberg. _So today I’m going to do it!"_

Wilbur blinks, and realizes that Tommy is standing at Quackity’s side where he wasn’t a moment ago. What did he… _ah_. Piled in the farthest corner of the room is all that gathered TNT. As far away as he could get it without leaving them alone. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Quackity finally says. “Wilbur, listen, listen- you can’t do that shit.” 

Quackity’s saying something else, but Wilbur doesn’t catch it because he leaned forward ever-so-slightly as he spoke, letting his guard down just a smidge... “I can still press it,” Wilbur says without thinking, and he _lunges_.

It’s Tommy that catches him before he reaches it, grabbing him by his arm. Before Wilbur can course correct for the added dead weight, Quackity’s got an arm across his chest. “Please, let me go,” Wilbur asks, because despite everything his first instinct and weapon is still always his words. Fucking coward.

“Let me talk to you, Wilbur,” Quackity says in some horrible parody of the revolution’s guiding principle. He almost laughs.

“The minute you let me go.” Wilbur strains against Quackity’s arm. “I’m pressing the button. What do you want to say? Say it _now_.”

Quackity’s voice is rising as he shouts. “Wilbur, Wilbur, it’s not fucking worth it! You’re not only gonna kill Manberg-”

 _“As soon as you let me go, I’m pressing it_ ,” he snarls.

“You’re gonna do so much fucking harm by pressing it!”

Tommy’s talking, too. It’s all so _loud_ , their voices echoing in the tight space. “Wilbur, Wilbur, this isn’t the right thing to do-”

“As soon as I press it,” Wilbur says. “Us three are running!”

Quackity’s arm tightens. “No, no, no, no! Don’t fucking do that shit! You can’t do it! You’re not just gonna destroy Schlatt-”

“Explain it to me! Give me a reason! Give me a _reason_ ,” Wilbur pleads.

“This isn’t the right thing to do, Wilbur!” That’s Tommy. Of course it is. At least Quackity is a fucking politican. A leader. Tommy’s always been all heart, and he thinks something being _wrong_ should be a reason not to do it. Why the hell did Wilbur think he would ever get through to him? Tommy’s a stubborn bastard, and he refuses to see what Wilbur’s trying to tell him- that he can’t save this nation, that it was never _worth_ saving. Why doesn’t he realize that?

“It’s gonna hurt Schlatt and Manberg. _Who else is it gonna hurt?_ ” Wilbur snarls. Those are all people he would be okay with hurting. Those are all people Wilbur _wants_ to hurt. 

“Everyone!” Quackity says. “Everyone who lives here.”

In the same moment, Tommy shouts, “Tubbo, Niki, everyone you’ve worked for!”

 _“Let me go_.”

“Wilbur, we can still take it back,” Tommy begs.

Quackity’s still trying to reason with him, as if they aren’t well beyond that point. “You can’t fucking do that shit! You’re gonna hurt so many more people than you’re gonna save!” That’s not true, he’s lying, _he’s lying, the button is the only way to fix this, why did he even_ …

Wilbur stops struggling all at once, going slack. Suddenly, Tommy and Quackity are the only thing holding him up. “Why did I bring you here? I should’ve just done it.” This is why Wilbur can never be the hero Tommy thinks he is. Because that was who he was when he was being _watched_. By Tommy, by his friends, by his son, by the leaders of an enemy nation and all of history to come. But remove the limelight, and Wilbur is _nothing_. “I’m such a _fucking_ showman.”

“Wilbur, everyone is going to die with you if you do this. This isn’t fair,” Tommy says.

Not… not everyone. “No, you two can escape! I’ll be the…” he starts to point out. But then he thinks it through. Wilbur presses the button while Tommy and Quackity escape. They’ll be out of the tunnel by the time everything starts exploding, and Wilbur… “Oh.” He can picture it now. Tommy and Quackity running for the hills, the world caving in on itself as the explosion licks at their heels. But Wilbur won’t be running. The roof will start to give way long before he can reach the door. “I’ll be trapped in here.”

Tommy’s voice is grave. “You’ll die with this. If you blow this up, you’ll take yourself with you. Is this what you want?”

Wilbur doesn’t know. He doesn’t _care_ . He can’t help but laugh. “I just want to press the button. I just want to _fucking_ end it.” He started this. It’s only _fair_. Tommy would like that, wouldn’t he? If it were fair?

“Wilbur,” Quackity says. His voice is level. Steady. Like a leader’s should be. He wonders how different things would be if Quackity had won, without Schlatt. Just as bad, probably. No matter how good of a president Quackity would make, Wilbur still wouldn’t have been in charge, and Wilbur is starting to despise the person he is without the stage. And the person he is with it, too- what was that self-righteous bastard thinking, starting a war? He should have known it would end like this. “What’s your end goal, here? What are you going to achieve with that?”

Wilbur doesn’t respond. He only realizes that Tommy’s walking away when he’s stumbling without a second pair of hands to support him, and he goes crashing to the ground. Quackity doesn’t move to help him. He’s still standing in front of the button.

Wilbur distantly notes the sound of something falling as if struck, spilling across the floor by the entrance. The TNT, he thinks. “The exit’s blocked,” Tommy calls from the opposite side of the room. “If you do this, you kill us _and_ you kill yourself.”

Quackity’s voice is hard. “Don’t do it.”

Wilbur sighs, pressing his face into his hands. “Why did you have to make it so _difficult?_ ”

Quackity makes a half-hearted sound of sympathy that hurts worse than any burn. Wilbur isn’t something to be _pitied_. He’s the reason all of this is happening. Doesn’t he realize that? Doesn’t he know that this is Wilbur’s duty? To bring it to an end?

“If you’d just let me press the button-” Wilbur pleads.

“Don’t press the button, man,” Tommy says, accompanied by the sound of… is that armor?

 _“If you’d just let me press the button_...” Wilbur says again. He still wants to laugh. It’s fucking hilarious. The great revolutionary Wilbur Soot, finally out of words to save himself. His life’s work resting in the hands of two people that don’t realize it’s always been beyond salvaging. Why is he the only one that sees that?

More armor clatters, and Wilbur finally looks up to see Tommy crouching in front of him. “Do you want us to go down with you?” Tommy asks. There’s something wrong here, but Wilbur can’t...

“I don’t want to kill you two,” he finally admits. They’re maybe the only two decent people left in this place. Unlike Wilbur’s traitor son, or Manberg’s dictator, or Tommy’s little yes-man, or the revolutionary that never should have been, they are fundamentally, unequivocally _good_. Quackity didn’t have to run against him. Tommy didn’t have to stay once Tubbo was on his feet again. But they did. They cared about this land. They cared about doing right by it. “I don’t want you two to die.”

Tommy looks… no, he’s not angry. Not scared, either. He looks _certain_. As if that’s exactly what he’d needed Wilbur to say. It’s in that moment that he realizes what he was missing. Tommy’s not wearing a helmet. Or a chestplate, or… oh, that’s just _cruel_. “If you press the button,” Tommy spells out. “We die as well. You kill _everyone_. Not just yourself.”

Wilbur takes a long, shuddering breath, and gets to his feet. He feels about as steady as a newborn deer as he takes a step towards the button. It’s so _close_. All it would take is for him to reach out… And that would be that. It would all be over. Everything would be over and done with, and he would be… and _Tommy_ would be.... “Oh, _fuck you_.” 

When the hell did Tommy get so smart? Where was this during the war? For _Eret?_ It’s the same thing, isn’t it? The big, bad disaster has happened, and the second you start to catch your breath, the bad guy presses the button and everything you’ve worked for goes to hell. No, it has to be _now_ that Tommy wises up. Right when Wilbur is so close to doing one fucking thing right.

He drags his fingers through his hair. “Why did you have to make it so _hard?_ ” he asks once more. He shouldn’t have brought them. He knows what he’s like with an audience. He’s such a fucking showman. He takes a deep breath, and drops his hands to his sides. Looks to his right. “You love it, don’t you, Tommy? You love L’Manberg.”

“Yes,” Tommy nods, and that’s when it hits him. That’s why he won’t let Wilbur destroy it. It’s not that he actually thinks that it can be saved. It’s that he _wants_ it to be saved. He knows it’s fucked. He’s always known that. And he wants to try anyways.

A boy like Tommy could level a city with his anger. For just a moment, Wilbur really does want to see him repair a nation with his hope.

But hope is nothing. Not on its own. Idealism gets you nowhere except caught in a war with the closest thing you’ve ever known to a god. “And you, Quackity,” he finally forces himself to consider. He could be lying. He probably _is_ lying. But… Quackity hadn’t even known Schlatt when he challenged Wilbur’s leadership. He was the first person to see through Wilbur’s bullshit and realize that he wasn’t fit to be in charge. He had helped build the White House. He seemed genuinely upset when it was destroyed. And he followed Tommy’s lead with the armor. That takes trust. Dedication. If Quackity is a liar, then he is in it for the long haul. What was it that he’d said to Techno… ah, right. _I don’t care if you’re on our side,_ he’d said. _As long as you’re willing to help me_. Wilbur can work with that. “You want to help.”

“Wilbur,” he half-laughs. “When I ran against you, it wasn’t against _you_. It wasn’t against Tommy. It was to save L’Manberg. I just wanted more freedom for that land, and you blowing it up fucking ruins everything we’ve been working for.”

“We can’t get anything back if you do this,” Tommy reminds him. “You’re not just ruining your L’Manberg- you’re ruining _everyone’s_ L’Manberg.”

Wilbur doesn’t think he has a L’Manberg left to ruin. It was founded on the lie that Wilbur was once a good man, and then Schlatt tore down his walls and his White House and burned his flag. But Tommy… he doesn’t need the landmarks or the history. He needs the people. The home. It’s such a naive idea. He should let it go up in flames before it puts himself or anyone else in danger. It’s the responsible course of action to take.

“I don’t know what your fuckin’ end goal with this button is, but… not today. We have some really good plans in place,” Quackity speaks, snapping Wilbur’s attention away from Tommy. He’s standing in front of the button again. “Listen, I have an idea-”

“Quackity, I need you to move out of the way so I can reach the button,” he says. His voice is calm. Steady. He needs to end this whole cycle right here, right now. He might never get another chance like this.

“Listen-”

_“Quackity.”_

“Listen to me! If we take down Schlatt-”

“And we can!” Tommy adds, so achingly emphatic, so _sure_ that he’s right.

“-And we can!” Quackity agrees. “We can have a whole new era of shit.”

Tommy’s nodding along. “He’s the ex-Vice President, Schlatt trusts him!”

“I know we _can_ ,” Wilbur says slowly. “But we’d be the bad guys if we take him down.”

“For all you know, we’ve already had a discussion with Schlatt.” Quackity takes a step forward, and then another so he’s standing nearly nose-to-nose with Wilbur. He’s not standing in front of the button. The button is... 

“Tommy,” Wilbur says. “Step to one side.”

“We have the brains. We have Techno. We have Tubbo. We have so many more people-” Tommy is arguing, standing between Wilbur and his one chance at ending it all.

“Tommy, step to one side. That is an _order_.”

He meets Wilbur’s gaze. “Do you want to kill all of us with you?”

“Tommy, if you trusted me you’d step to one side,” he tries one last time.

Tommy’s shoulders slump. “If you want to kill us all, then be my guest. But I don’t think you’re that far gone.” He steps out of the way, and there is finally nothing standing between Wilbur and what needs to be done.

With this, he can undo all the damage he’s caused. Wipe the slate clean. Let someone else start over. It would be so easy. But… Tommy’s put so much work into this. He gave up his discs for this. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t believe this was a cause worth fighting for.

That’s the thing about Tommy. He’s a smart kid. When he wants something, he goes for it. When he wants something, he _gets it_. It’s how he got the stupid discs in the first place. It’s why _he_ was the one to give L’Manberg its independence after all hope seemed lost, not Wilbur.

L’Manberg is not a cause worth fighting for. It never was to begin with. It was built on a foundation of lies and pretty words that mean nothing when brought under scrutiny. The walls were constricting until they were torn down. The flag was that of a nation founded by a showman until it was not. The White House was a prize to be won until it was gone. This is not a place that should be worth anything to anyone.

Except to Quackity. Except to Tommy.

And if Tommy believes that it is worth going to war for, then maybe… just _maybe_ it will be by the time the boy is done with it.

With that thought, Wilbur’s hand closes around the button. He takes a deep breath. Thinks about how nice it would be to be done here. Thinks about the fact that Tommy would die, too. Ending it all by his hand is one thing. Ending Tommy is another.

In the end, it’s less of a choice than it has any right to be.

Quackity stops whatever tirade he was going on this time. Tommy is utterly silent for once in his life. That’s monumentous. Tommy, without words? Wilbur should be celebrating.

He wants to laugh. He’s holding the button in his hand. He’s holding it in his hand and he doesn’t know what he’s saying until the words are already out of his mouth, spilling out of him like wiring through the new hole in the wall. “Tommy, we’ve tried my ideas. I’m willing to listen to you. I’m going to follow you. Whatever you think is going to be the best way of taking down Schlatt, we’ll do it.”

No one moves for a long, painful moment. The world takes a breath, and realizes it will be allowed to take another. They’re here. They’re alive, for better or worse. Probably for worse. This all could still go up in flames. This probably _will_ all go up in flames.

Tommy is the first to break the silence. He always is. “Alright! Okay!” He moves to collect the pieces of armor scattered across the floor. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get to work, fellas,” Quackity grins, the exhaustion clear in his voice.

Tommy comes back to face Wilbur, holding… is that Quackity’s chestplate? “Listen to me,” Tommy says. Wilbur blinks down at him, and waits for the first command from his new leader. “You’re gonna wear armor now, alright?”

Wilbur takes the armor that’s pressed into his hands before he can really think about it, and the next thing he’s aware of, Tommy’s helping him fix the straps at the shoulders so it actually fits right. An extra pair of hands, because Wilbur’s knuckles are white where he still grips the button.

“Thank you,” Tommy says again.

“No problem,” Wilbur says on autopilot. He feels distant, like he’s watching everything through a thick layer of fog.

“Now, listen-” Tommy is saying, and Wilbur… he can’t. Not right now.

“Can we… not discuss it in here?” he asks. The button is still in his hands. He runs his fingers along the edge of it, doing his best to ground himself. “You guys head back to Pogtopia. I’ll be there in a bit.”

Tommy just nods, and pulls Quackity along behind him as he walks out of the room.

The amount of trust Tommy puts in him makes him dizzy. That’s just reckless. Leaving the man that nearly destroyed everything _you’ve_ ever worked for alone with the bomb. What is he thinking?

If he had to guess, Wilbur would assume that Tommy is thinking that Wilbur is scared and directionless and needs a moment alone. He’s a smart kid. He’s always been able to see straight through him, even with the rose-tinted glasses of hero worship. He wishes he could say it’s why he keeps him around, but…

It’s because Tommy is good. Tommy makes him want to _be_ good. And he’ll give it the old college try, of course. Tommy has earned that, if nothing else. But right now, he can’t stop thinking about the fact that his one chance to end it all just slipped through his fucking fingers. He was so _close_ , and he let it go! He gave it up, on the _off chance_ that a teenager can save a nation with nothing but… what? _Sheer force of will?_ Of course, if anyone can do it, Tommy can. But that’s not a guarantee. There’s never a guarantee. He thought the election was already his from the moment he announced it, and look where that got them. All of them.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t see this through to the end. He can give Tommy that much. This is going to end in fire and blood and complete and utter disaster, but at least Tommy will be able to say that he _tried._

He lets himself sigh, and gets to work. He finds himself humming as he reconnects the wiring in all the right places. It takes too long for his tastes. Tommy and Quackity are going to start getting suspicious. He needs to hurry. They can’t find out about this- they’ll never leave him alone again if they know what he’s doing.

He pushes the button back into place. “Not today,” he whispers to no one. “For fallback.”

He doesn’t know if he’s ever going to get another chance like this again. But he needs to know that it’s _there_ . Just in case. When everything falls apart, there’s always one last option to end this war once and for all. A backup plan. His original plan, just… a little later. What difference will it make, _when_ he all blows up? It’ll all be scorched earth either way.

It’s backup. It’s security. The button can’t betray him. The button can’t leave him. If… _when_ Tommy is wrong, and he can’t take back the nation, then the button will be there. He can trust that, if nothing else.

Wilbur takes a deep breath, and steps out of the tunnel.

He’ll be back for this.

(They set in place the vaguest outline of a plan that Wilbur has ever had the misfortune of contributing to on the walk back, and then he crashes. He crashes _hard_. If Niki is to be believed, he sleeps for a full forty-eight hours.

He barely does anything in the next few days. Somehow he ends up in the combat pit, staring at the wall. Deconstructing every action he’s ever taken, sorting through thoughts of how _I should have blown it up_ and how- no, he was right to listen to Tommy, and how he shouldn’t trust Quackity, and how _Tommy_ trusts Quackity so that means _he_ needs to trust Quackity, too. 

This isn’t going to work, he keeps finding himself thinking. They are all going to die, and Schlatt is going to keep Manberg for himself.

Or worse, this _will_ work. They’ll win, and Wilbur will have to figure out what to do with the rest of his life without a war to fight. He never planned that far ahead. It was always _blow it up_ and then… nothing. It was easier that way. It _still_ is easier that way.

It takes him a week to finally leave the ravine. And now he’s faced with the horrible realization that they’ve done absolutely nothing in the intervening time. Nothing but give Schlatt more time to plan his next move.

Wilbur is many things. He is a liar, a villain, a violent revolutionary, and a warmonger. But most importantly, he is a showman. They need another push if they want to get moving, right? Wilbur can give them a push.

The deadline he gives them is Friday. Quackity cuts it awfully close to the wire, but that doesn’t matter anyways, apparently. Schlatt already _knew_ , and later he will digest that thought and let the panic and fear and paranoia run its course, but right now he is standing in front of Tommy, and Quackity, and... 

His traitor son. He hates the way he feels, flipping through the diary in his hands. Pride. It’s not an emotion that the traitor has any right to inspire. This is not the boy he built the walls for, and Wilbur is not the traitor’s father. He’d said so himself. So why is he so damn happy that he came _home?_ This isn’t home. Wilbur has never had a home, and he does not have a son. 

But he does have allies. They have _so many_ allies, and that only makes him more sure of this plan. Everyone is on their side, and that means the only people they’re hurting when Wilbur inevitably presses the button will be Schlatt, Dream, and their traitor.

It means Tommy gets to have his one last try at reclaiming what he believes to be theirs, and _when-if-when_ it fails, Wilbur can step in and finally close the curtains. Someone else will be there to sift through the rubble and make something new from the broken pieces in the aftermath, and Wilbur won’t have to worry about it.

He hopes the tree remains untouched. It’s survived so much. It’s only fair. And if anything is going to survive this whole tragedy, he wouldn’t mind it being the one thing that Manberg never managed to ruin. A reminder of where it all started. Of what L’Manberg was meant to... 

No, that can’t be it. He can’t place why else he would want the tree to remain, but _that_ certainly can’t be the reason. That’s too sentimental. Wilbur is not sentimental. He can’t be, not when he’s so ready to end everything. That is one of three things he can be sure of.

The second is that the button is there. It will always be there. Buttons can be tampered with, but he can fix them. Buttons can’t betray you and they can’t talk you out of the only worthwhile plan you’ve ever made.

As for the third thing-

Quackity raises the idea of Tommy being the traitor. Wilbur dismisses immediately. There is a chance that Tommy might betray them, yes. Might betray Pogtopia. But not L’Manberg. Never L’Manberg. Tommy is never going to give up on that place, not when he still aims to make it worth saving. Tommy is good like that. That’s why…

That’s why Wilbur trusts him.)

**Author's Note:**

> You know that one Adventure Zone bit where Taako is like "I trust nothing and no one" and then immediately turns around and goes "I trust Angus completely"? Yeah. That's Wilbur. He believes in exactly two things and it's the button and Tommy's moral compass.
> 
> (Just watch Tommy turn out to be the traitor tomorrow, literally a day after I publish this. Just watch.)


End file.
